


I Wanna Know What Love Is

by HeyYousGuys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 07:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyYousGuys/pseuds/HeyYousGuys
Summary: Seamus brings a karaoke machine to the weekly eighth year parties. At first, Harry is content to watch from the side, all alone. But when Draco approaches him and strikes up a conversation, his routines changing to include watching from the side, with Draco next to him. It's during one such party, with Draco sitting near him, that Harry realizes that he's crushing. And one sleepless night later, Harry realizes that his feelings aren't that new.But how best to go about letting Draco know how he feels? Surely, he wouldn't utilize Seamus's karaoke machine... well, he wouldn't if Seamus hadn't been plying him with drinks all night.





	I Wanna Know What Love Is

**Author's Note:**

> This story is unbeta'd and was written in one go while very sick. It's probably got a few mistakes, which I will edit out once I'm feeling better. For now, enjoy this story that wouldn't leave my head until I wrote it all out.

If he were being honest with himself, Harry detested these parties. It wasn’t that he was opposed to having fun. It just felt… disingenuous somehow. None of them were healed from the events of the past year, especially not the horrible things that happened that past May. They were all still so broken, so sad, so angry.

Perhaps, Harry realized, that was why they all wanted to party. None of them had truly been allowed to be teenagers. To sow their wild oats and rebel like some teenagers did. Maybe they were making up for lost time. 

But, for Harry, it also felt disrespectful. Fred had only just died 4 months ago; he couldn’t party. Nor could Lavender, whose absence wasn’t as obvious in Harry’s life, but was still felt. To Harry, every stolen moment of happiness was wrong. 

And, yet… Dennis Creevey was smiling. Ron was laughing. So many who’d lost parents, siblings, and significant others seemed to be genuinely enjoying the party tonight. Harry sat off in the corner by himself and watched them, a confusing mix of emotions swirling inside of him. On one hand, he was happy to see them all enjoying the moment. On the other hand… he sighed heavily and tried not to think of everything they had been robbed of, everyone they had lost, and what it had cost them all to get to this point. 

“It’s so hard to laugh or smile without wondering if we’re allowed to.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A statement from an unexpected source. But, if anyone would understand Harry’s current mood, it was Malfoy. 

They hadn’t spoken much this year, though the few that had returned for eighth year shared a house and all of their classes. Parties in the common room weren’t unheard of. And Harry knew Malfoy had attended some of these parties. But they’d never really talked yet this year. 

“I guess it’s different for me and my lot, though. We don’t really deserve this happiness. But I would think that you would be reveling in it. What with your entire childhood basically being stolen from you and having so many responsibilities and expectations thrust upon you.” 

Harry looked over at Malfoy, who had taken a seat about three feet away from him. But he said nothing. He knew he could, and probably should, explain himself. But he didn’t want to talk. People always wanted him to talk. The Prophet wanted interviews. The wizarding world in general wanted him to be a guest speaker. The Wizengamot wanted him to testify at trials or to be the one who read the verdict. Shops that had been destroyed during the War wanted him to be the ribbon cutter at their re-opening ceremonies and give a speech about healing and starting fresh. Harry was, quite honestly, tired of talking. 

But he could listen. 

He gestured for Malfoy to keep talking. Malfoy’s forehead creased and his eyebrows knitted together for a moment. But he eventually nodded and resumed talking. 

“It just seems to me like you, of all people, need moments of levity in your life. People are always wanting a piece of you. Always expecting you to be a figurehead. Don’t you ever just want to let loose and party and be a kid, Harry?” 

Harry’s eyebrows raised at the use of his given name. 

“Sorry!” Malfoy added quickly, holding his hands up in front of him. 

“It’s fine. You can call me Harry. Just didn’t expect it from you,” he replied. “Draco,” he added for emphasis. 

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I shouldn’t have expected you to react to that. I’ve never called you Harry before. It’s always been Harry Potter or Potter. Often with undeserved disdain in my voice.” 

“Not entirely undeserved,” Harry shrugged. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way,” Draco stuck out his hand toward Harry, “fresh start?” 

Harry beamed a radiant smile at Draco and shook his hand with vigor. Until Draco had offered a clean slate, Harry hadn’t realized how much he truly needed it. Until that moment, Harry hadn’t really felt like anything good had come of the war. Sure, they were rid of Voldemort. But they had lost too much to get there. But, now, with a truce between he and Draco, Harry saw the party for what it really was: a chance to heal. Students mingled together, without regard for what House they belonged to. Kids who might not have otherwise ever been friends were laughing and dancing together. All around him, Harry saw the good things about the party. 

He smiled genuinely at Draco. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“You, too,” Draco responded. 

Still a few feet between them, the two men watched the party with a new outlook on life. 

\- - - 

In the following weeks, Harry and Draco still didn’t talk much. But they greeted each other cordially in passing. They had even shared a desk in Potions, much to Harry’s delight. Having Draco as a potions partner meant that, maybe, Harry would get that day’s potion correct. 

Harry was in the library, studying for an upcoming Transfiguration exam, when Ron unceremoniously plunked himself down opposite Harry and blurted out, “So what’s with you and Malfoy being friends now?” His tone wasn’t accusatory. Merely curious. Still, Harry felt his guard go up just a bit. 

“I wouldn’t call us quite friends yet,” Harry tried for nonchalance. “But we are starting over again. Trying for a clean slate and all that.” 

“Makes sense,” Ron shrugged and opened his Transfigurations book, seemingly intending to study as well. 

“Makes sense?” Harry inquired, confused by Ron’s easy acceptance of the situation. 

“Well, sure!” Ron replied, glancing up at Harry for a moment before looking back down to his book as he attempted to find the correct page. “I mean, he hasn’t been so terrible lately. Really since 6th year, I guess. And he kind of helped us out when we were taken to his house, don’t you think? I mean, he could’ve given you up right then and there. But he didn’t. I doubt we’d be alive today if he had. Plus, he’s been quite pleasant to be around this year.” 

“So… you’re not mad at him for everything before all that? I mean, he was pretty awful to you and ‘Mione both. He nearly killed you.” 

“You nearly killed him,” Ron didn’t even look up from his book. “I reckon if he can forgive you for that and you can forgive him for the load of crap he’s done to you over the years, then I suppose I ought to follow suit, eh?” 

Gods! Harry didn’t deserve such a great friend! Ron had always been loyal and selfless. But it still always surprised Harry when it cropped up again and again. Harry shouldn’t take Ron for granted the way he sometimes did. 

“Besides,” Ron continued, “most of his previous behavior was a product of his upbringing. It must’ve taken quite a bit of courage to rebel against his father and his aunt and Voldemort and that whole lot. Hell, he could’ve been bloody killed for not giving you up. I reckon he doesn’t really believe the things he used to say, just pretended to do so to satisfy his prat of a father.” 

“Fair point,” Harry chuckled to himself. The two quietly went about studying, a peace surrounding them. 

After several minutes, Ron whispered conspiratorially, “Besides, ‘Mione will kill me if I don’t start making friends with the Slytherins, her being the head of the Inter-House Unity Committee as she is.” Harry just laughed and shook his head. Hermione and her never-ending quest for social justice and peace. 

“She’ll be Minister of Magic someday for sure!” Harry commented. 

“And we’ll all be better for it!” Ron added. 

\- - - 

This time, when Neville announced another party, Harry looked forward to it. He still had no plans to actively participate, but he looked forward to watching the others and seeing their joy. He sat in the same corner as the previous party, this time not even questioning it when Draco sat down near him. 

“Ten galleons says Seamus starts the karaoke this time round,” Draco spoke up.

“Fool’s bet!” Harry laughed. “Seamus always starts the karaoke. And it’s always something ridiculous.” 

“Fair enough,” Draco laughed. “Ten galleons says that YOU join in on the karaoke.” 

“No way!” Harry turned and looked at Draco skeptically. “Why would I do that?” 

“Because Seamus told me it would be his mission tonight to, and I quote, ‘get the Chosen One significantly hammered enough to put on a show for all of us!’” Draco laughed again, a sound Harry very much enjoyed hearing. 

“It’s never going to happen!” Harry argued. 

“Thought I should warn you, though,” Draco replied coolly. 

“I appreciate that.”

Harry sat back and watched as Seamus pulled out the karaoke machine his father had bought him and punched some buttons. The old 90’s tune of ‘I’m Too Sexy’ began. Muggleborns and those with Muggle relatives began hooting and wolf whistling, leaving the others thoroughly confused. Seamus began a flirty bump and grind dance among his fellow students. 

“Blimey! He’s likely to start stripping if people keep encouraging him like that!” Draco commented with a laugh. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Harry winked at him, feeling brave. He wasn’t sure why he was admitting this to Draco, of all people. Just that he felt safe enough to do so.

“You bent, Harry?” Draco asked casually, no hint of judgment in his voice. 

“More like I have no preference when it comes to gender. An attractive person is attractive no matter their parts.” 

A silence fell between them for a few moments and Harry wondered if he had said the wrong thing. Had he just ruined their tentative friendship by being too honest about who he was?

He chanced a glance over at Draco, who was looking down at the ground and biting his lip. Harry waited, tensed, for Draco’s reaction. Several minutes dragged by as Draco said nothing. Eventually, Harry turned back to watching the party, just in time to see Seamus giving Dean a lap dance. 

“I am.” 

Harry barely heard the whispered words. He slowly turned his head and looked back at Draco. Draco was still looking at the ground, his face a mask of pain. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Harry asked. He knew what he had heard, but he wasn’t letting himself believe it. 

“I’m gay,” Draco whispered, looking up into Harry’s eyes with so much sadness and pain that Harry nearly pulled him into a hug. “I’ve never told anyone,” Draco admitted quietly. 

“You’re secret is safe with me, Draco,” Harry assured him. He looked at Draco openly and honestly, trying to reassure him without words. He saw Draco relax infinitesimally before huffing out the breath he’d been holding. 

Harry, not wanting to make Draco feel uncomfortable by staring at him, turned back to watch Seamus give Dean’s head a small kiss before the song ended and Seamus stood up to take a bow. 

Harry clapped along with his fellow students. Just as Blaise was going to the karaoke machine to punch in his song choice, Harry heard Draco’s voice again. 

“So, redheads do it for you then?” There was a strained quality to Draco’s tone, one that Harry couldn’t identify. 

“Not especially. Not any more than blondes or brunettes. Why?” Harry didn’t dare to look over, sensing tension radiating off of Draco in waves. 

“Well… Ginny and now Seamus… I just thought…,” Draco’s voice trailed off. 

“I don’t fancy Seamus,” Harry felt the need to clarify. “I mean, he’s all right to look at. Not a bad dancer. But I’ve known since 4th year that he’s gone on Dean. Those two will be married before next summer, I’m sure of it.” Harry chuckled. Beside him, Draco relaxed a little. 

It was then that Seamus chose to come flouncing over with drinks in hand. He thrust them upon Harry and Draco without even asking if they wanted them, then danced back over to join the rest of their friends in cheering on Blaise’s rendition of The Weird Sisters’ song “Rhythm of My Heart”. 

“Told you,” Draco commented, holding his glass up to Harry in a salute. Harry simply chuckled, clinked cups with Harry, and took a large drink of whatever concoction Seamus had brought them. “You didn’t even check it to see what it was!” Draco’s eyes were wide with astonishment. 

“I trust Seamus. We’ve drank together enough that I know he’s not trying to poison me. He’s rubbish at Potions anyway, you know that.”

“That’s precisely why you SHOULD check the drink first, you dolt!” Draco laughed before wordlessly casting several diagnostic spells on his cup. Something about the wordless magic made Harry’s insides tingle. Why was it so thrilling that Draco could wordlessly cast? Harry had seen many people cast wordlessly before. It had never been so remarkable, until now. 

Satisfied that Seamus wasn’t trying to kill them, Draco sipped delicately at his beverage. Harry watched the motion of Draco’s throat bobbing up and down and felt that tingling sensation again. A bead of moisture remained on Draco’s lips and Harry felt himself swallow thickly. 

Was he crushing on Draco Malfoy of all people? When did this begin? They were friends now, sure, but how had Draco gone from his enemy to his crush this quickly? 

Had it always been there, Harry wondered? Was that why Harry’s reactions to Malfoy were always so visceral? Why Harry was always so keenly aware of everything Malfoy did? Was there a part of Harry that had always fancied Draco? If so, Harry had not realized it until this moment. 

“Harry? You all right?” Draco asked innocently. 

“Fine!” Harry squeaked, sounding suspicious even to himself. He cleared his throat and pulled his cup to his mouth, draining his remaining drink in one go. “Sorry,” his voice was back to normal, “dry throat.” He awkwardly laughed off his previous squeak and nervously turned back to watch Pansy’s turn at the mic. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see that Draco clearly did not believe him. But, as the other man didn’t comment, Harry was all too happy to let the subject drop. 

Noticing Harry had drained his glass, Seamus came over with another one. Harry accepted it, grateful for something to do to distract himself. 

“Told you he’s trying to get you pissed,” Draco whispered once Seamus was far enough away. 

“Yeah… you were right about that…” Harry took another large gulp. 

“Hey! Slow down! All right? Don’t make yourself sick,” Draco scolded, taking the cup from Harry’s hand and setting it down on a nearby table. 

“Yeah, no, of course… thanks,” Harry replied, not making eye contact. 

Several long, awkward seconds passed before Harry had enough. He stood up, very clearly faked a yawn, and said, “Welp! Off to bed!” 

He ran away without another word. It was cowardly, he knew; but he needed time to sort out whatever this was that he was feeling. 

\- - -

Harry lay in bed, having cast several charms to keep the others from bothering him, and thought to himself. Did he fancy Draco? It had certainly seemed so at the party. But Harry knew all too well that he was spectacularly poor at self-evaluation. 

For example, he had realized, far too late, that he didn’t really fancy Ginny. It was just… expected that they would get together. He had truly broken her heart when he called it off just after the War had ended. It had been a tense summer, every time he visited the Weasleys. But they got through it eventually. 

Had it not been for Charlie’s visit in July, and their subsequent discussions on sexuality, Harry might not have realized that he was bisexual at all. But the way Charlie spoke so frankly about his own sexuality had made Harry realize that he had, in fact, fancied a few blokes over the years. Charlie being one of them, actually. Cedric and Oliver Wood being the others. 

Several days later, he’d asked Charlie to talk in private. It had been Charlie that had helped him realize that he was neither gay nor straight. Harry had never considered the possibility of bisexuality. But Charlie made it all sound so simple and easy to understand. 

It hadn’t been so difficult for Harry to accept that he fancied Charlie, Cedric, and Oliver as it now was to admit to that he fancied Draco. But why? Surely, fancying your best mate’s brother and then dating his sister was for more egregious than fancying a former enemy. 

And crushing on your Tri-Wizard competitor, whom you watched die, was far more complicated than crushing on your former enemy, now friend. 

And crushing on your Quidditch captain, who was definitely straight, was far more awkward than crushing on your former enemy, now friend, now most-certainly crush. 

“Oh, Merlin!” Harry whispered to himself in the dark, “I do fancy him!” 

It was a long, sleepless night after that. 

\- - - 

“I lost ten galleons because of you!” Seamus huffed at breakfast the next morning, throwing himself down in a seat next to Harry. 

“Excuse me?” Harry questioned. 

“I bet Pansy that I would get you to sing karaoke with me! I had it planned out! Get you properly sauced, then drag you to the mic and force you into a duet! But you had to go and run off twenty minutes into the party!” Seamus smiled and winked, showing that he wasn’t actually put out, he was just being dramatic. 

“Sorry, mate,” Harry shrugged. “Existential crisis,” he offered by way of apology. 

“Oh… sorry…” Seamus had the decency to look properly abashed. 

“Oi, mate!” Ron piped up, scrutinizing Harry’s face, “Did you sleep at all last night?” 

“Not really,” Harry shrugged and grabbed some toast for a distraction. 

“You want to talk about it?” Hermione offered kindly. 

“Nah, I’m good. But thanks,” Harry grinned at her before grabbing jam to slather on his toast. 

The Slytherins from their year, none of whom were morning people, trickled in to join them at the 8th Year table just then. It was clear that Pansy and Blaise were both hungover. But Draco looked remarkably spirited that morning. 

“All right?” Dean called to them from the other end of the table. 

“Fine,” Pansy mumbled, resting her head in her left hand as she grabbed a piece of dry toast. She bit into without bothering to add butter or jam, a sure sign of alcohol-induced nausea. Draco poured two water and slid one in front of Pansy and the other in front of Blaise. 

Harry watched as Draco poured a glass of pumpkin juice for himself and then heartily began filling his plate with a variety of foods. He followed the way Draco’s deft fingers wrapped elegantly around his cup. He ripped his gaze away as Draco began to drink, however. He did not need a repeat of last night, thank you very much. 

\- - -

All day, Harry was quiet and introspective. He suddenly didn’t know how to act around Draco. On one hand, he wanted desperately to talk to him at any opportunity. On the other hand, he was afraid he would say the wrong thing. After all, it’s not like they spoke much outside of the weekly parties in the common room. And even then, their camaraderie was a new thing. Harry was terrified of ruining that and losing Draco for good. 

Sure, other blokes might come along, but Harry was pretty sure it had always been Draco. Other blokes might only want Harry for his fame. Draco had never seemed to care that Harry was The Chosen One. Other blokes might want to just be seen with The Golden Boy. Draco valued his privacy as much as Harry did. Other blokes… well, they weren’t Draco; whom Harry was pretty sure he’d always fancied, even if he hadn’t realized it until now. 

\- - -

More sleepless nights.

\- - -

More introspection.

\- - - 

More avoidance of a certain blond. 

\- - - 

Harry’s friends were starting to worry. 

\- - -

The following weekend, Harry decided his best course of action would be to join the party, rather than sit to the side with Draco and observe. At first, Harry had felt awkward. He wasn’t the part type. He sat stiffly, arms tucked into his side and hands resting in his lap. 

Eventually, though, he loosened up. Seamus continued to ply him with alcohol. This time, with no ulterior motive; just a simple desire to see his friend relax for once. Harry clinked his glass against Luna’s and they both happily drained their cups in one go. 

Three drinks later and Harry felt quite squishy and light. He smiled over at Ron, who was gazing doe-eyed at Hermione, looking like a man who had truly won the world’s greatest treasure. Harry felt himself envying what they had. He wanted that. That happiness, that security, that feeling of luck that you landed the person of your dreams. And while Harry knew that Draco was gay, he had no idea if Draco would like him back. Just because Harry had fallen so quickly to the opposite extreme from enemy didn’t mean Draco moved as fast. Harry vowed, then and there, to woo Draco properly. 

And he knew just how to do it. 

Standing up unsteadily, Neville having to grab his elbow to stop him from tipping over, Harry walked over to the karaoke machine and waited as Hannah Abbott finished her rendition of “Sweeter Than A Treacle Tart”. 

‘Sod these sappy wizarding songs!’ Harry thought to himself. ‘I know what’ll do the trick.’ 

Harry had only heard the song about a million times on Uncle Vernon’s wireless. “A ridiculous 80’s power ballad,” Aunt Petunia had called it. Which was precisely why Harry had decided to like it. If Aunt Petunia hated it, it must be good. 

Harry looked at the machine in confusion. How did you work this bloody thing? He looked over at Seamus, who was making his way over, and grinned sloppily at him. He whispered the name of the song into Seamus’s ear. Seamus laughed loudly for a moment for saying, “Whatever you say, Harry,” and punching in the song code. 

The opening strands of Foreigner’s “I Want To Know What Love Is” filled the room. Muggleborns laughed at the hilarious song choice. Harry didn’t care. He knew the song was cheesy. But it was also perfect for his current situation. 

“I gotta take a little time, a little time to think things over,” Harry began crooning. He knew he had a decent voice. It wasn’t the absolute best, but it was pretty good. “I better read between the lines, in case I need it when I'm older. Now this mountain I must climb, feels like the world upon my shoulders.” He reflected back on his younger years and how true that last statement was for him. “Through the clouds I see love shine, it keeps me warm as life grows colder.” He didn’t have the courage to look at Draco yet. But he could hear other students cheering him on, some even singing along. 

“In my life there's been heartache and pain,” Harry belted out. “I don't know if I can face it again. Can't stop now, I've traveled so far, to change this lonely life.” He took a deep breath and chanced a glance at Draco. “I want to know what love is, I want you to show me.” Draco was looking confused. “I want to feel what love is, I know you can show me.” Harry winked at him, feeling brave. 

Draco looked around, confusion evident on his face. When his eyes locked with Harry’s again, the second verse started. 

“I'm gonna take a little time, a little time to look around me. I've got nowhere left to hide, it looks like love has finally found me.” Harry smiled shyly at Draco before continuing again. “In my life there's been heartache and pain. I don't know if I can face it again. Can't stop now, I've traveled so far, to change this lonely life.” More whistles and cheers from their peers. More confusion from Draco. Harry felt himself losing a little courage. “I want to know what love is, I want you to show me. I want to feel what love is, I know you can show me.I want to know what love is, I want you to show me.” Harry’s heart sank, as Draco got up and left the room. For a moment, Harry considered running after him and abandoning the song. However, if he finished the ballad, he could use the song as an excuse and say he was just playing up the flirtiness of the lyrics and didn’t mean any of it. 

“I want to feel what love is. I know you can show me,” Harry continued on. “Let's talk about love, I want to know what love is…” Harry finished the song with a heavy heart. He did his best to mask his disappointment at Draco’s early exit. From the continued cheers and wolf whistles of his schoolmates, Harry managed to fool most of his peers. But the look Hermione was giving him was quite telling. 

\- - - 

Harry moaned as he came to, his head throbbing and a blinding pain behind his eyes. He squinted against the offending sunlight streaming in the window and cursed the invention of alcohol. He tried to recall the events of the previous night, what had lead him to drink so much and feel so dreadful now. But nothing came to mind. The last thing he remembered was being on the couch next to Luna. 

That was odd. His usual spot for these parties was over in the corner. 

The corner… where Draco had recently been joining him. 

Harry moaned as he realized what that meant. He vaguely recalled singing karaoke. He knew what song he had chosen. And then he remembered: Draco had walked out during his performance. He had been blatantly singing to Draco and Draco had left. Harry’s moan this time wasn’t from his hangover, rather his realization that his crush was unrequited. 

He rolled over gently, trying not to upset his stomach any further, and pulled a hangover potion out of his bedside drawer. He swallowed it down in one, knowing that he would be hit with a wave of nausea before the potion took full effect. He held it down, though, and felt himself relax as it washed away all symptoms of his hangover. If only it could erase his memories and the subsequent embarrassment of Draco walking out while Harry was trying to woo him. 

He got up slowly, still not totally trusting his sense of balance, and padded off to the shower, to wash the smell of day-old alcohol from his body and brush it from his teeth. 

\- - -

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Britain’s next top singing sensation: Harry, the Boy Wonder!” Seamus joked as Harry approached the 8th year table for breakfast. 

“I thought he was all right, mate,” Dean chided. 

Harry thunked down in his seat and tried his best to ignore his friends, who were now bickering like the old married they ought to be by now. 

“You did quite well,” Pansy complimented, plopping down next to him. “Feeling alright this morning?” 

“Took a hangover potion,” Harry replied, not looking up from his plate. 

“Same!” Neville commented, raising his glass in commiseration with Harry. 

“Where’s Draco?” At Pansy’s mention of Draco’s name, Harry looked up. Blaise was walking toward the table, alone. 

“Dunno,” Blaise said. “He never came to our room last night,” he added matter-of-factly. 

Harry worried about what that meant. He had thought, when Draco had walked off during his song, that Draco was going to lock himself in he and Blaise’s room and refuse to speak to Harry ever again. But the fact that he hadn’t been there at all threw Harry for a loop. Where was he? 

Harry tried not to look too eager as he listened to Ernie, Blaise, Neville, and Pansy discuss where Draco could’ve gone. 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Luna asked quietly, for Harry’s ears only. “He slept in the Slytherin dorms. There are so few returning Slytherin students, it makes a perfect escape when you’re avoiding your crush.” 

Harry gaped at Luna. Surely she didn’t mean… 

“Avoiding your crush?” Harry inquired, hoping the hopeful feeling in his gut wouldn’t be squashed. 

“Sure,” Luna shrugged, grabbing a scoop of eggs and adding them to her plate. “You admitted your feelings for him last night and he didn’t know how to respond. He’s been hoping for some time that you liked him back. That’s why he told you about him being gay.” 

Luna’s innate ability to see the truth, through all of the social coding and cloaking of feelings, never failed to astound Harry. He was supremely lucky to have Luna in his life. 

“She’s right, you know,” Hermione added quietly, not drawing the attention of others around them. “Draco’s fancied you for some time now. I just didn’t know you fancied him back. When did that start, by the way?” 

“When did it start or when did my dumb ass realize it?” Harry muttered morosely to himself. 

“Fair enough,” Hermione replied. “You always were bad at self-reflection. When did you realize?” 

“Last week.” It did no good for Harry to try to lie or ignore her. She’d find her answers eventually. Hermione was very good at getting to the bottom of things. “Though I suppose I’ve probably felt this way for quite some time.” 

“Do you think he walked out because he’s not ready to go public with his feelings yet?” Luna asked innocently. 

It hadn’t occurred to Harry, in his very drunken state last night, that singing his feelings in front of all of their friends meant that Draco would have to declare his feelings publicly or leave. His exit made more sense. That is, assuming Luna was correct that Draco returned her feelings.

Harry needed desperately to believe that Luna was correct. After all, the alternative was that Draco had walked out because he was angry with Harry or disgusted with Harry. Or both. 

\- - - 

The rest of the day seemed to drag. It was Saturday, so there were no classes to attend. But there were other activities. The 8th Year common room was full of people playing games together, people attempting to do homework but getting distracted, and friends chatting happily together. Draco was nowhere to be found. 

Harry contemplated, as he watched his friends laughing joyously together, what it meant if Draco was back in the Slytherin dorm. Harry couldn’t get in. Draco must’ve known that. And that must be why he had gone there. 

Did he just need time to think? Or would he be avoiding Harry altogether from now on? A sense of dread filled Harry as he worried that it was the latter. 

\- - -

That night, the last person Harry expected to walk into the common room was Draco. There wasn’t a raucous party going on, as there always seemed to be on Friday nights. Just most of the 8th years gathered and enjoying a festive atmosphere. The younger students weren’t around this night, though 5th years and older were always invited to the parties. But this wasn’t a party, just a jovial Saturday evening.

Harry watched in fascination as Draco strode over to Seamus and whispered in his ear. Seamus looked bemused, but got up and hurried off anyway. Draco paced back and forth, his eyes glued to the floor, until Seamus returned. 

Upon Seamus reentering the room, Harry noticed the bulky object in this right hand: the karaoke machine, which he was carrying by its handle. Seamus set it down in the usual spot and then began gathering everyone up to witness the performance. 

Harry watched, from his spot over on the side, as Seamus punched some buttons. He handed the mic to Draco and said, “Good luck, mate!” loud enough that Harry could hear it from the other side of the room.

The opening strands of “I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore” by R.E.O. Speedwagon began and Harry held back laughter. Surely this wasn’t happening. And with everyone sober, nonetheless. 

“Oh, I can't fight this feeling any longer,  
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow.  
What started out this friendship has grown stronger.  
I only wish I had the strength to let it show.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.  
I say there is no reason for my fear.  
'Cause I feel so secure when we're together.  
You give my life direction,  
You make everything so clear.

And even as I wander,  
I'm keeping you in sight.  
You're a candle in the window,  
On a cold, dark winter's night.  
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore.  
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.  
It's time to bring this ship into the shore,  
And throw away the oars, forever.  
'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore,  
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.  
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,  
Come crashing through your door,  
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore.”

Before Harry even realized he was doing so, he was striding across the room toward Draco, a dopey grin on his face. Draco dropped the mic, the ‘Oi! Don’t break my machine!’ from Seamus barely audible in Harry’s euphoria. 

“Do you mean it?” Harry paused in front of Draco, close enough that he could be considered in his personal space but not so close that he was intruding without permission.

“Did you mean it last night?” Draco’s eyes held hope and trepidation simultaneously. Harry hated seeing the fear in them. He’d seen too much of that terror in Draco’s eyes over the past year. 

“Yes,” Harry breathed. “Every word.” 

“Me, too,” Draco breathed, a smile overtaking his face as the instrumental track continued to play, underscoring this new step in their relationship. 

Harry grabbed the sides of Draco’s face and pulled him close. He paused, his mouth just millimeters from Draco’s, their breaths ghosting over one another’s lips. 

It was Draco who closed the final distance, drawing Harry into a passionate embrace. Their tongues mingled together, exploring each other’s mouths. Harry felt a heady rush overtake his entire being, right down to his very soul. He had never kissed anyone like this. It felt like he had finally come home. Like this was where he’d meant to be his entire life. 

They pulled apart minutely, resting their foreheads together and breathing in each other’s essences. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Draco confessed shyly, a delicious blush creeping across his cheeks. 

“Yeah?” Harry knew he was smiling like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He felt utterly and totally blissful. 

“Get a room!” Harry heard Dean teasingly yell from a few feet away. 

“You’re one to talk,” Draco turned his head and shouted back. “You and Finnegan snog each other senseless at every opportunity!“ He laughed, along with Seamus and Dean. Harry smiled, glad to see the lighter side of Draco after so many years of turmoil and heaviness. 

“You and Harry should take note,” Seamus retorted. “It’s quite a lovely feeling to be loved so thoroughly that you can’t keep your hands off of each other.” 

“Give it a week,” Ron chimed in, “and we’ll be begging them to stop!” 

Harry raised an incredulous eyebrow at Ron just then, surprised by his easy acceptance of this turn of events. 

“Don’t look so shocked, Harry! You insult me. I already told you he’s forgiven. It’s not like I didn’t sense then how you felt. You’ve been crushing on him for years, haven’t you?” 

Though Harry had contemplated this very question himself, hearing it from Ron really drove the point home. He had been crushing on Draco for years, even if he had been too thick to realize it. 

He pulled Draco close to him again and trailed gentle kisses along his jaw. “Ron’s right, you know,” he murmured between kisses. “I have fancied you for years.” 

“We should’ve done this sooner,” Draco practically swooned in his arms. “It would’ve saved us both a lot of heartache and doubt.” 

“Yeah?” Harry inquired at Draco’s admission that he had also pined for Harry for years.

“Yeah,” Draco confirmed, pulling Harry for another passionate kiss.


End file.
